She looks so delicate sitting there
You don’t know she was up all night fighting demons
She’s not just quiet, there’s a living silence about her
You don’t know that her wails tore up the walls last night
She tilts her head along with the flowers
You don’t know that at night she rips off the petals and counts them, one by one
She always clasps her hands, it’s endearing
You don’t know that she’s still fighting back the tremors from last night
You look so pretty in that shade of pink, you tell her
It’s Ashes of Roses, she whispers
